First Things RSS Feed - John Farrell https://www.firstthings.com/author/john-farrell en-us Copyright 2025 First Things. All Rights Reserved. ft@firstthings.com (The Editors) ft@firstthings.com (The Editors) Mon, 20 Jan 2025 16:56:58 -0500 https://d2201k5v4hmrsv.cloudfront.net/img/favicon-196.png First Things RSS Feed Image https://www.firstthings.com/rss/author/john-farrell 60 The Distant Suns of Gene Wolfe https://www.firstthings.com/article/2007/04/the-distant-suns-of-gene-wolfe https://www.firstthings.com/article/2007/04/the-distant-suns-of-gene-wolfe Sun, 01 Apr 2007 00:00:00 -0400 Lots of novel readers—from the highest brow to the lowest—nod politely when the science-fiction writer Gene Wolfe is mentioned. But even among science-fiction fans, one gets the sense that they’re saying, “Yes, yes, we know how good he is, but we’d rather talk about such bestselling authors as Neil Gaiman or Robert Jordan, Laurel Hamilton or Neal Stephenson.” As Glenn Reynolds, the inveterate science-fiction enthusiast and popular blogger of Instapundit.com, recently wrote, “Gene Wolfe is a superb writer, but I’m not crazy about his storytelling.” I recently asked a veteran New York editor whether Wolfe could find a publisher today if he were just coming along as a young writer. “Probably not,” she admitted. His writing is too religious, too difficult, and too strange.

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]]> Cosmic Questions https://www.firstthings.com/article/1994/03/cosmic-questions https://www.firstthings.com/article/1994/03/cosmic-questions Tue, 01 Mar 1994 00:00:00 -0500 Dreams of a Final Theory  

by steven weinberg 

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]]> The Argument From Design https://www.firstthings.com/article/1992/10/the-argument-from-design https://www.firstthings.com/article/1992/10/the-argument-from-design Thu, 01 Oct 1992 00:00:00 -0400 The Mind of God
by Paul Davies
Simon & Schuster, 254 pages, $22

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]]> She Turned to Me https://www.firstthings.com/article/1991/03/she-turned-to-me https://www.firstthings.com/article/1991/03/she-turned-to-me Fri, 01 Mar 1991 00:00:00 -0500 She turned to me one night as if to say: 
“I know.” And though I waited for her words as we 
Walked along the outside path of cobblestones 
And grass, her eyes instead made effort to 
Explain her inner thoughts and fears. 
Pain, I knew she’d meant to share aloud. 
Had now the briefest moment stopped her mouth. 
And as if in protest of this sudden lapse. 
Her face made plain the meaning now 
And led her hand to reach for mine. 
Once touched, her words then followed 
As though she broke a spell. “But time,” she said, 
“Makes worse the grief once suffered. Don’t you think?”

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